


The Joy of Motherhood

by justanothermaniac



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Character Study, Child Abuse, F/M, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-09 23:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20517860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothermaniac/pseuds/justanothermaniac
Summary: She does love them. She thinks. She's not sure what love is supposed to feel like.





	The Joy of Motherhood

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I hate Lila, you hate Lila, we all hate Lila. I'm not trying to excuse any of the horrible things she did.
> 
> She's simply an interesting character and idk, I kinda wanted to try and get into that. And it is quite a challenge, to take a character that is so absolutely despicable and try to get in her head.
> 
> Please share your thoughts with me in the comments! 
> 
> Love goes out to all of you ~
> 
> \- jam 💙

Lila Valeska is not a good mother.

She wasn't cut out to be one. There's no way to sugarcoat it. She knows it herself. 

Sometimes she'll simply sit on her couch, grasping a bottle of wodka between her trembling fingers as she listens to her boys cry in their room. Her heart will ache because she doesn't want to make them cry. But she doesn't know what to do differently.

No, that's not true. She knows _what_ to do differently. She just doesn't know _how._ She hasn't known for a very long time. 

They were easy enough to take care of as babies, didn't cry much and the other women at the circus were delighted to watch them for Lila once in a while. "They're so precious!", they'd coo and all Lila could do was smile and silently agree.

They were precious indeed, with their deep blue eyes, the freckled skin and the ginger fluff on top of their heads. They wore matching smiles and shared the same giggle, lighting Lila's heart on fire every time she heard it. She remembers how tightly Jerome would hold her finger with his tiny little hand, how Jeremiah would closely observe when she brought a finger up to boop his nose, making him laugh. They were her little bundles of sunshine. 

It changed when they around three. They were lively and cheerful, two little hurricanes, Jerome more so than Jeremiah, but the younger twin always happily tagged along and was eager to be a part of his brother's shenanigans. It wasn't just _feed them, clean them, cuddle them, put them to bed_ anymore. The other women at the circus weren't as willing to watch them anymore, either because they'd become mothers themselves, or simply because they weren't interested in putting in the effort. The older the children, the more work you have to invest.

It was draining. Lila remembers vividly how loud Jerome was. Always screeching, laughing, yelling, stomping around the trailer with Jeremiah in tow behind him, tickling him to make him shriek, using the only pot they owned as a makeshift drum by banging two color pencils on it.

It was too much. Her head was exploding from either too much or not enough booze, money was always short, Alphonse and Owen acted like they were planning to fucking _marry_ her, the Ringleader wouldn't get off of her ass, Zack wouldn't get off her ass, Paul wouldn't get off her ass and _Jerome just wouldn't shut the fuck up._

The first time she raised her hand against him, it seemed like the echo could be heard miles away still. He stared up at her in absolute shock, a hand pressed to his reddened cheek, his beautiful blue eyes starting to glisten with tears. Jeremiah was standing behind him with his tiny fists against his lips as he trembled, looking even more horrified than Jerome did. Lila remembers how she dropped to her knees and sputtered out apologies as she pulled Jerome against her chest, _Mommy's sorry, Mommy's so sorry, baby. _

She went out to get pepperoni pizza and Chunky Monkey ice cream that night, Jerome's favorite. She felt miserable, absolutely so. She couldn't believe she actually did something like that to her own son, her beautiful boy. It was horrifying in more than one way.

Her greatest fear was about to become reality. She was turning into her mother. 

She stayed by their bed for a long while that night after they'd fallen asleep, gripping an almost empty bottle of wodka. Jerome was clutching Jeremiah to his chest like a stuffed animal, and Jeremiah had his fingers twisted in Jerome's sleep shirt. They looked like they were afraid someone could take the other away.

Lila threaded her fingers through Jerome's hair, unable to look away from the darkened spot on his cheek. She downed the rest of the wodka and stumbled over to Zack's trailer, breaking down against his chest before she was even able to start explaining.

But as she expected, Zack didn't see the issue. "If he ain't gonna listen, he's gotta learn, Twinkle", he grunted in her ear as he awkwardly held her close with one arm so she wouldn't fall_._ "We learned too, didn't we?" 

_Twinkle_ is a nickname Zack gave her when they were still kids. She'd always hum _twinkle, twinkle, little star_ before bed, driving him insane. She needed it to calm herself down, while Zack just wanted to get some sleep.

Zack was always so indifferent about their childhood. Even when they were still stuck there, in that moldy one-bedroom apartment with the crumbling facade, dodging flying beer bottles, Zack just shrugged it off. He let Lila cling to him as she stared at their seething mother with wide, fearful eyes. She still remembers the ghastly vein on her temple that would start pulsating when she was angry. Lila always expected it to pop but it never did. 

Zack didn't push her away when she seeked his affection but he didn't exactly comfort her either. He didn't understand why it got to her so much. Things are how they are and they're not going to change, so why waste time with being bothered by it?

Zack let Lila cling to him that night, too. He didn't shush her, or wrap his arms around her, he just sat there with his baby sister crying into his chest while he absent-mindedly ran his fingers through her thick curls, a can of beer in his other hand. It wasn't much of a comfort. Zack just wasn't made for that.

Lila still hates herself a little for it, but after visiting Zack, she went to Paul. It was a time when she'd still sit with him occasionally, before her world became miserably bitter and she couldn't even look at his face anymore without her chest tightening with hatred. 

She stayed with him in his trailer the whole night, crying and pretending to sip the tea he offered when she was _longing_ for an actual drink. Paul listened to her, never interfered, he let Lila get it all out. Paul was always patient, patient and calm. It was his soothing aura that drew Lila to him in the first place. 

When she was done, he told her: "You love the boys very much. I know that and you do too. The life we live here at the circus is not an easy one and that's probably never going to change. You made a mistake. And you'll make more. It's human. Just remember one thing."

He took her hands in his and Lila felt a painful sting in her heart because the gesture actually comforted her. She remembers how warm and gentle his voice was, how his unseeing eyes looked right into her own without even realizing it. "Remember that they are your sons and they need you. Never let them forget that you love them."

She tried. She really tried.

She's _still_ trying. "Get out of my sight", she hisses at Jerome, who's holding his jaw as he glares at her. It doesn't match with that insufferable grin on his face. It looks eery with the blood trickling from his bottom lip. "I don't want to see you for the rest of the evening, _get the fuck out."_

"It's my pleasure, mommy dearest", he coos, blowing her a kiss before flipping her off as he turns around. The trailer door closes, the shoe she's thrown at Jerome bouncing off of it. Lila is seething, her hands are trembling and she needs a fucking drink, _right now._

As she turns around to reach for the half empty bottle of Jack on the couch table, her gaze falls on Jeremiah, who's watching her from the doorframe of his and Jerome's cramped room.

His face is void of expression but he's closed off, hugging himself as he stares at her feet, refusing to meet her gaze. Lila's heart gives a tiny clench, barely even there. But it reminds her. _Never let them forget that you love them._

"Jeremiah, baby -", she croaks but Jeremiah turns around and closes the door, most likely to read or draw while waiting for Jerome.

It's all he ever does. Wait for Jerome. He'll wait for Jerome and Jerome always comes back for him. While Lila is alone.

She's trying. But it's so _hard. _

She does love them. She thinks. She's not sure what love is supposed to feel like. The only person she's ever felt a connection to is Zack, but he's never once told her that he loves her. She's never told him either.

She thinks she might have loved Paul once. Paul is kind and understanding. She cherished that. She still does, she's grateful that he takes care of the twins when Lila can't.

She thinks she loves her sons. She remembers their shared giggle when they were babies, their tiny arms reaching out for her. Her chest felt warm then and it still does now when she thinks about it. Is that love? Mothers are supposed to love their children.

But her own mother didn't. She didn't love her, she didn't love Zack, she didn't love anyone. Or maybe she did and didn't know how to express it. Lila doesn't know. There's so many things that Lila doesn't know or understand and it's driving her mad.

She doesn't know what love is supposed to feel like. She doesn't understand why _she_ doesn't know what love is supposed to feel like, but her sons do. She doesn't know why she even bothers anymore. She doesn't understand why she can't survive a day without alcohol. 

She doesn't understand why, after all these years, it still doesn't feel right to be a mother.

Sometimes she wishes that she never slept with Paul in the first place. Sometimes, she wishes she would never have become a mother.

Fuck this. Fuck all of it. 

She takes a large gulp from the bottle before making her way outside. As she stumbles down the trailer stairs, she sees Zack approach, a sixpack of beers in hand. "Heard ya yellin'. Want me to straighten out the psycho brat?" He practically throws himself into his usual spot, popping open one of the beers while Lila lights herself a cigarette. She gives a curt shake of her head and Zack grunts affirmatively. "And the other one?"

"Inside", Lila murmurs, not going into detail about what happened and not planning to do so. All she wants to do now is get wasted. All she ever wants to do is get wasted. 

Zack rarely calls Jeremiah by his name. He has to yell Jerome's name on a daily basis but Jeremiah is either _the other one, your youngest,_ or, when he's addressing him, _kid._ It's interesting that Zack knows which one is younger despite his disinterest for both of them. But Lila supposes the twins don't make it difficult. Jerome is _obsessed_ with being older, has been since they were little. He's protective of Jeremiah on a level that's downright creepy. Zack never acted like that.

Zack never protected her.

Lila shakes her head. Bad thoughts. More booze. She puts the whiskey bottle aside to reach for one of the beers. She needs to chug something or she'll go insane.

"Does the kid even function without Jerome?", Zack slurs, tossing his empty can aside to reach for a new one. "So fucking dependant. That ain't healthy, I tell ya. No wonder Jerome's such a fuck-up. And hell knows what's going on in _his_ nerdy brain."

Lila just shrugs. She doesn't have the energy to discuss her sons' psyches. Christ, fuck, she doesn't even have the energy to think about her _own. _Or Zack's, for that matter.

It doesn't matter though, because he's going to keep talking anyway, even without her input. "Y'know, ya should really consider the whole adoption thing, Twinkle. The kid's smart and doesn't talk back, someone's gonna wanna have 'em."

"We do that, ya won't have anything to keep Jerome in check with", Lila mumbles eventually. Zack groans, as if that only just dawned on him. 

Zack hardly interacts with Jeremiah but there's been incidents, a few of them. Zack doesn't care much for either of the twins but Jerome is the one who provokes, so he gets to feel his wrath more often. Jeremiah is smart enough to stay quiet. Most of the time at least. When he doesn't, Zack doesn't hesitate.

Sometimes, he'll hurt Jeremiah to get through to Jerome. It's the only thing that works. Sort of. Peace and quiet never last long with Jerome. But as soon as Zack threatens Jeremiah, Jerome becomes as easy to handle as a kitten.

It's horrible. Lila is a horrible mother. But fuck if she cares. Jerome and Jeremiah aren't exactly perfect either. 

She tries to remember when Jerome started his rebellious rampage. But it happened gradually, she's unable to pinpoint his change from the cheerful boy he once was into the obnoxious teenager he is now. His grins are the worst, bright and challenging, such a contrast to the coldness in his eyes. He scares her sometimes. But lucky for her, Jerome is more scared of Zack than Lila is of Jerome.

Jeremiah's resentment is quieter. He hardly talks to her. Granted, he never talked much, even as a child, he only ever talked to Jerome. But Lila can see it in his eyes and posture, just like before. Her baby boy always looks like he would rather be anywhere else when he's around Lila.

It used to hurt like hell. Every time she saw the tears in Jeremiah's eyes, every time Jerome flinched away from her touch, she felt a sting in her heart. She wanted nothing more than to hold them, press her lips to their smooth skin and apologize for not being the mother they deserve.

When they were around nine or ten, the pain shifted and twisted into anger. How could they reject her like this? She's their _mother,_ she gave _birth_ to them. She was the only reason they even existed and they treated her like a monster, pushing her away and seeking comfort in each other instead. It _disgusted_ Lila how close they were, always holding hands and kissing, they were getting _too old_ for that.

She knows now that she was just envious of their bond. It's pathetic, really, a mother envious of her sons. But she couldn't help it. They remind her of what she always wanted but never had with Zack. Zack never offered her much comfort, especially not in the physical way, not as they got older, not in the way Jerome and Jeremiah did. Still do.

Their sons' closeness doesn't make her angry anymore. Now, Lila mostly feels numb. She knows it's probably, no, _definitely_ the drinking. And the fucking. She does it for the extra money but it also helps to make her mind shut up, which is nice. She prefers being numb over being in pain. She prefers it over the anger.

But _fuck,_ if Jerome doesn't try. He's infuriating. No one knows how to make her snap like Jerome does. She flexes her fingers, wincing at the pain shooting through her knuckles.

She knows it's her fault. All of it. But it's too late to regret it now. The damage is done and all she can do now is try to control. 

"Imma try 'n find my bed", Zack suddenly murmurs, groaning as he heaves himself out of his chair. Lila blinks, realizing that her bare feet are freezing. How long have they been sitting out here? She glances at the table. Only the whiskey bottle is still on it, the beer cans are all scattered on the grass, empty. 

"Night, Zacky", she murmurs, her eyes closed as she rests her chin in her hand. Calloused fingers pat her on the head clumsily when her brother stumbles past her, groaning, his steps heavy and uncoordinated. Lila is certain he won't make it to his bed. He'll probably pass out in front of the trailer door, like he does five times out of seven.

She sighs and lights another cigarette. She wonders what time it is, even though it doesn't really matter. Time becomes meaningless when every minute of every day is always the same.

She hears footsteps approach, definitely not as heavy as Zack's. Whoever is coming closer is whistling a cheerful tune and that's when Lila knows exactly who it is. "Ya got any smokes? I'm runnin' out."

Jerome stops whistling. She can hear him rummage through his pockets. "Ya gonna catch?", he asks giddily, making Lila crack her eyes open.

"Don't test me, Jerome", she hisses, noting that Jerome's shirt, face and hands are covered in blood, like they are ever so often when he returns from a night out. Lila doesn't know what he's doing and quite frankly, doesn't want to know. Some questions are better left unanswered.

Jerome giggles and throws the pack anyway, but so that it lands on the table. "Thanks." She lights one, closing her eyes as she inhales. "Make sure ya burn the clothes."

"Always do", he replies cheerily. The chair Zack occupied minutes (hours?) ago creaks as Jerome lets out a relaxed sigh. "There's still Jack left? My, my, hope ya ain't gettin' sick, momsie, that'd be _horrible."_

She ignores the jab, cracking her eyes open to see Jerome taking a gulp of the whiskey. "You're fifteen, shouldn't drink that shit", she scolds half-heartedly. She doesn't even know why she says it at all. They both know she doesn't care.

Jerome sets the bottle down with an _ahhh_ sound. "I'm sixteen but I wouldn't expect ya to remember the exact amount of years that passed since ya pushed us outta your lady parts, considering how many things went _in there_ over the years."

Irritating. Irritating. Irritating. Lila closes her eyes again. "You're a loathsome little bastard", she tells him. 

Jerome snickers. "It's what a supportive environment does to ya!" She hears a clicking noise when Jerome lights a cigarette for himself.

The trailer door creaks open. "Baby bro! Come join us, we're bonding!", Jerome says in faux excitement. Lila inhales deeply through her nose. She's not in the right state of mind for this. The right state of mind would be blissful unawareness. 

"I see that." Jeremiah's voice is almost identical to Jerome's. The only difference is that he speaks in a softer tone and never sounds as cheerful or condescending. He's capable of sounding cold, however, when he wants to. Almost robotic. Right now, he sounds tired. "Are you okay?"

Jerome is audibly grinning. "Miaaah, when am I ever not? How 'bout you? You okay?"

Lila reaches for the bottle and puts it to her lips. _Numb yourself. Blissful unawareness, here I come. _

"Tired", Jeremiah whispers.

Jerome's tone is sweet and gentle when he replies: "You shouldn't have waited up."

The whiskey burns but Lila keeps drinking. _Numb yourself, Lila. It's better when you don't have to feel. _

"You know I can't sleep when you're gone."

_Numb. Numb. Numb. Numb_

Jerome sighs. "Yeah, I know. I'll get rid of these and get under the shower real quick. Wait for me?"

Jeremiah is audibly smiling by now. "Okay."

Lila sets the bottle down, blinking rapidly, her throat and stomach feeling hot. But it's alright. It doesn't hurt. It's better when it doesn't hurt. "Night, baby", she rasps in Jeremiah's direction. 

Silence. Thick and heavy. Cold as ice. "Good night, mother."

The door falls shut. Lila feels like she's floating. It's good. It's all good.

Next to her, Jerome stretches audibly. "Well, I'm off." The chair creaks again when he gets up, his voice dripping with venom. "I wish you the sweetest of dreams, Mommykins."

Lila is getting sleepy. Good. Sleep is good. Everything's good right now, isn't it?

Except that it's not. The numbness is fading. Why is it fading? Why is it starting to hurt? It's not supposed to hurt. "Good night, sweetie."

She doesn't know why she said it. She just...wanted to. But it didn't feel good to say it. It felt like a lie. It's a lie.

"Shove it up your ass." With that, Jerome is gone and Lila is alone.

Lila is always alone. Alone, alone, alone. She reaches for the bottle so she won't feel alone anymore but her vision starts swimming and her fingers won't close properly around the bottleneck. She thinks something shatters. Or does it? Her breathing is so slow. She's so tired. Ah, but it's getting dark. Good. Very good. Did she close her eyes? She doesn't remember. Her limbs feel heavy.

Good. It's all good. 

Lila passes out in the chair outside of the trailer that night. It's not the first time and it won't be the last. She doesn't notice Jerome burning one of her favorite sweaters along with his bloody shirt.

She doesn't notice that Jeremiah joins him in the shower. She doesn't hear the soft moans or the muffled cries. 

She doesn't notice that they end up outside, hand in hand, standing above her. She doesn't see the kitchen knife in Jerome's hand. She doesn't hear Jeremiah whispering: "You don't want to cross that line."

She doesn't hear Jerome's reply. "Maybe not tonight." 


End file.
